A raven in snow
by Theswedishtrex
Summary: Tonaenziah Morvayn was a member of the house Redoran, the family that is in charge of Raven Rock. However, due to a series of unfortunate events, she ended up as a sell-sword in Skyrim under the new name of Raven Foyada. When she's hired by an innkeeper to look after his son who wants to become an adventurer, Raven has no idea the turn her life is about to take.
1. Prologue

**PROLOGUE**

 **Not so humble beginnings**

The carriage was rocking uncomfortable beneath me. My surprisingly full body was covered in a dark blue dress which almost blended in with my grey-bluish skin. As a contrast against my dark skin and dress, my hair had a golden red colour. It almost seemed to glow as it flowed down my back. In my lap was a thick leather bound book opened. The words were in the language of Skyrim, which seemed to upset my father who was sat next to me.

The name I carried was Tonaenziah Morvayn and I was fifteen springs old. I was the daughter of Fatyene and Ethlo Morvayn. Ethlo, my father, was the brother of Lleril Morvayn, the first councillor and Redoran representative in Raven Rock. It was never Father's job to become a councillor. He was the second born, Lleril being the older brother. However, Lleril kept Father around as an advisor. This was much to my joy, since it offered our family opportunities to travel all over Tamriel on political quests. As an overly curious young woman, this was fantastic. If, however, my teacher allowed me to take a break from my studies.

If I was to complain about my life, I'd be a fool. Life was good. During the days, I'd be taught history, magic, alchemy, writing, and reading by my teacher, Master Athres. Master Athres was an old and wise Dumner, and he had taught many children before me. He sparked my love for learning. Every now and again my father would mutter that it was unnatural to be as curious as I was, but to that my mother would playfully swat his arm.

During the evenings, I'd either read in the light of the fireplace or assist Mother with for my brother. For a long time, I was an only child since Mother seemed to be unable to become with child after birthing me. However, four winters ago, a small bump appeared on her otherwise flat stomach. A child was growing inside her. My brother, who was now three summers old. His name was Tirnle. It seemed my parents were fond of names beginning with the letter T.

Tirnle was resting against Mother's soft body as the carriage continued to make progress towards our destination. It seemed like the roads in Skyrim were rougher and less refined than those in Raven Rock. Though the rest of my family seemed to dislike the cold, I wasn't bothered by it. Master Athres had taught me a very useful spell when it was mentioned that we were going to Skyrim. It enveloped the caster in a warm cocoon, keeping him or her from experiencing cold and instead provided a pleasant feeling of sinking into warm bed.

"Are we there soon?" Mother asked quitely to not disturb Tirnle. "And Tone, put away the book. You've been reading since we left the ship."

Reluctantly, I closed the book and placed it in my knapsack. There wasn't a lot in it. Simply a few books, another dress along with my dagger. No one knew that I had it there, I had stolen it from Raven Rock's blacksmith. It wasn't for protection, we always had life guards with us. I simply liked to have it. It fuelled the fantasy of that I was an adventurer instead of a noble's daughter.

"It will take us another day's journey to reach Whiterun." Father said as he traced a long, slim finger across the map of Skyrim. Whiterun was located somewhere in the middle of the map, I recalled. "However, we are approaching our overnight halt." With that, Father put away the map. He had a tendency to make every action look overly dramatic.

Not long after those words had been uttered, the carriage came to a halt. The door was opened and a gust of cold wind flew into the carriage. Swiftly, I cast the spell and relaxed as it warmed me. The sun was setting, but it was still fairly bright outside. With wide eyes, I got out of the carriage and looked at the forest around us. The trees stood tall and green, reaching towards the darkening sky. The ground was covered in a thin layer of snow. Thinner than that in Windhelm, I noted. It felt so different under my shoes, compared to the sand of Raven Rock.

Our lifeguards were already busy with erecting the tents as well as lighting the fireplace. There were three of them and they were all Nords. It was more difficult than I liked to admit to tear my eyes away from them. Unlike Dunmers, the Nords had board shoulders, rough features and a more compact body type. Most suited to a cold climate. One of them even had armour without sleeves, while my family had dressed in every warm clothing item they could get their hand on.

"Let's leave this forsaken land soon enough." Mother sighed as she placed a hat on Tirnle's head before allowing him onto the ground to examine the snow. One part of them wished I was still young and it would still be acceptable for me to drop to my knees in order to feel the snow against my palms.

* * *

The evening was spent with the guards drinking mead, Mother in her and Father's tent to keep away from the cold. Father was conversing with the carriage driver, who was once again explaining the route and ensuring that the way they had chosen was safe. We had all heard the stories of Skyrim's bandits. Outlaws with a want to plunder all travellers of their coin and defile all daughters. However, I assumed they were just rumours. It wasn't possible that there were people like that.

As I went to bed, I was excited for the day to come. Tomorrow, I'd see Whiterun, the city I had only read about and seen illustrations of. Apparently the Jarl's housecarl was a Dunmer. With my stomach filled with rabbit stew, I curled into my bedroll and my thoughts drifted off to fantasises of tomorrow's adventures. At the moment, I didn't know that we would never arrive.

I was awoken while it was still dark outside. It didn't take me more than a few moments to realise what had woken me. There was shouting and the sound of metal hitting metal outside our tent. Tirnle looked at me with large, scared eyes. Just like mine, his eyes were milky white. When we boarded the Northern Maiden, one of the sailors had asked if we were blind.

Before I could reach over to pull my brother into my arms to comfort him, the tent was torn down. The scene in the clearing would forever be in my memory. The guards lay dead in the snow, several limbs missing from each. The carriage driver was dead as well. My parents were on their knees, held down by a large man each, and both had a dagger pressed against their necks. A large Orc walked up to me. Two long tusk like teeth were sticking out from his lower jaw and his head was shaved. With an ugly grin on his even uglier face, he crouched down in front of me.

"Pretty little elf." He said and stroke over my hair, tugging it gently. His breath smelled of death and I turned my face away. With a chuckle, he stood up. "The chief will like this one. Kill the others."

* * *

The old fort looked like it was about to crumble. As the large Orc guided me through the halls, I wondered how on earth someone could live there. The answer came sooner than expected as we walked down the stairs until we reached the lower levels and entered a large room.

There was a large fire roaring by the far end, and there was a massive table in the middle of the room. It was filled with food of all kinds. Stews, meat, mead, sweetrolls, crème treats, roasted leeks and potatoes. Feasting on the food were more bandits than I was able to count. With his back against me, a man in a heavy steel armour sat. It was of better quality and less damaged than the other's armour, which lead me to believe that this was the chief.

"Chief." The Orc said, confirming my suspicions. The chief turned around. His rough face was surrounded by blond, dirty hair and there were bread crumbles in his beard. There was a large scar tracing from his left ear down to the left corner of his mouth. "What do you think?"

As he spoke the last sentence, I was pushed forward and my hair was yanked back in order for my face to be exposed to the larger man. A yelp of pain flew over my lips. It felt as if the Orc's rough grip would tear the hair from my scalp, or break my neck. Whichever came first. As we travelled here, I had come to accept the fact that I would soon die. It didn't bother me too much. As long as I wasn't left here.

"Let's see here..." The room had now fallen quiet and all eyes were on the large Nord as he walked up to me. A gloved hand grabbed my cheeks, squeezing them lightly. "Nice face for an elf. But she's wearing too many clothes!" The last statement caused the room to erupt in howls of laughter.

Forcing me onto my feet again, the Orc grabbed a dagger and ran it down my body, starting at my neck. I could feel the sharp, cold edge drag along my skin. Once the tip reached the small of my back, it was sheathed again. With a strong pull, the dress tore apart from the end of the long cut and fell to the floor, barely usable as rags now. I stood there, in the cold fort, naked in front of howling bandits.

"Boys, the dessert has arrived!"

* * *

The next five years of my life would forever leave me scarred, both physically and mentally. I was the bandits' toy. Something for them to take out their aggression and frustration. I made attempts to escape several times, but I was always stopped. In order to keep me under control, I was kept weak and was constantly given a poison to weaken my magic skills. I was in a cage which as much of an ability to escape as a rabbit. There were days when I begged them to kill me. However, that day never came.

One morning, not long after my twentieth summer alive, I was woken up to screams, shouts, and metal clashing together with metal. This wasn't how it sounded when the bandits were practising against one another. No, this was different. I edged closer to the bars. A blonde Nord woman with a large double handed sword was battling the chief. The other bandits lay dead around them. Then, with a last powerful stab, the man who had made my life a horror, was dead.

After sheathing her sword, the woman looked around. It took a while before she noticed me as I sat leaned against the bars, too frightened to make an attempt to get her attention. A few moments earlier her face had been filled with anger and hunger for the fight. But now, it was soft. Without a word, she unlocked the door. Still frightened, I started move backwards in the cage.

"I don't want to hurt you." She said as the door swung open and she stepped inside. With her hands raised, she came over to me and untied my hands.

"I'm Mjoll." There was a smile on her lips as she shrugged off her backpack and withdrew some clothes for me to put on. "Who are you?"

With a cautious look on my face still, I grabbed the clothes. I didn't trust her. However, I didn't really have a choice. Now that the bandits were dead, I could escape, but I wouldn't survive more than a few days in the wild. If even that.

"I'm T-" I changed my mind. Tonaenziah Morvayn had died in the clearing along with her family. "I'm Raven. Raven Foyada."


	2. The meeting

****CHAPTER 1****

The meeting

If it hadn't been for Mjoll the Lioness, I wouldn't have made it. Without my new-found friend and motherfigure, there would be no more Raven. After she liberated me, she offered to escort me back to wherever I came from. However, this was easier said than done. I was certain everyone back in Raven Rock assumed I was dead, and I didn't see a point in returning. There would be questions, fussing. Instead of telling Mjoll I came from Raven Rock, I explained to her that my family had been slain by bandits. Instead of saying my father was a powerful politician back in our hometown, I said he was a travelling merchant. The kind Nord woman swallowed the bait whole.

To my surprise, she adopted me as her own. As we walked, she explained that she was currently hold up in Riften, a fishing town in the south of Skyrim. There was a sour tone in her voice as she came to who were running the city. A family called the Black-briar, along with something under the name of the Thieves Guild. It wasn't exactly a challenge to guess what their primary occupation consisted of.

For two years, Riften was my home. Mjoll took great pleasure in teaching me about the art of both two handed and one handed weapons. I soon discovered I had a natural talent for wielding a knife, as well as a bow. The smith in the town, Balimund, created a strong, powerful bow and knife for me, as well as teaching me the art of smithing. It lead to the point where I created my own armour. Of course, it was light, made out of mostly cloth, but reinforced with steel, ebony and silver. It was perfectly fitted and I was very fond of it.

Behind Mjoll's back, I took magic lessons from a mage that was held up in the town named Marcurio. As all Dunmer, I was skilled in fire magic and soon became powerful. I was described as a jack of all trades, which made me feel quite proud of myself. After years of hideous torture of all kinds, it was pleasant to be cared for, to be appreciated. My chest swelled with pride every time someone complimented me.

Another activity I partook in without Mjoll's knowledge was spending time in the Ragged Flagon. At first, I had shared my adoptive mother's view of the thieves. However, after spending an evening drinking cold mead with Brynjolf and Delvin at the Bee and the Barb, I changed my opinion. Down in the Flagon, I was trained in both sneaking and the art of picking someone's pocket without them noticing. I became quite skilled, and it was rare that I paid for anything with my own Septims.

But, my curious nature soon caused a restlessness to spread in my body. There were only so many times one could practice bow skills on deer out in the forest, practice magic on a temporary target, or refine the blade wielding skills on a training mannequin. Mjoll, being the same way, understood when I approached her to explain my predicament. There was a sadness in her eyes, but she did not attempt to stop me. I left the morning thereafter.

* * *

The Frostfruit Inn was surprisingly busy. It was possible that the harsh cold and driven the normally hardy people into the warmth. I was sat at a table as close to the fire as possible, yet as far from the rest of the crowd. For a few months, I had been making my living as a sell sword. It brought a steady stream of coin into my pocket, but the tasks were often mundane. It often consisted of little more than slaying a pack of wolves that had been bringing hardship to a farmer.

The bowl that had a few moments earlier been filled with Rabbit Stew was now empty and had been pushed to the side. Left in front of me was a pint of spiced wine. I preferred this to the mead which was often too sweet for my taste. Lost in my thoughts, I didn't notice the innkeeper approaching me until his hand touched my shoulder. Concerned that there had been an issue with my payment for either the room or the food, I turned around and looked up at him.

"Excuse me." He said, leaning back a bit to cross his arms over his chest. The way he was built suggested that he had not always been an innkeeper. "You don't happen to be a mercenary?"

The fear of another mundane task almost made me deny my profession. What on earth could a innkeeper want from me? Possibly, a costumer had left without paying for what they had ingested. However, the fact that my amount of Septims was beginning to reach critically low levels. The last job had paid miserably low.

"That is correct." I said instead, turning my whole body as he now had my full attention. "What can I do for you?"

"It's about my son." Thoughts started spinning. Was he missing, had he wronged his father? "He wants to become an adventurer. However, I doubt he can look after himself. I need someone to follow him, look after him. He has agreed to this."

Well, this was an unexpected turn. It seemed like an interesting task to watch over a completely inexperienced adventurer in the quite dangerous world of Skyrim. But yet, I hesitated. How much was the father willing to pay for the protection of his son? This was extensive mission, it would stretch over a large amount of time. If, the other didn't get killed, of course. It was require more Septims than other, lesser jobs.

"What are you offering?" I said as I drummed my finger against my thigh. I noticed a tear in my armour and reminded myself to fix this later that night. A broken armour was useless.

"Five thousand Septims." The father said, his voice indicating that it was take it or leave it. There was no room for negotiations here. And it was a large amount of money. All doubt was swept from my mind and I rose.

"I'll be glad to look after your son for you. My name is Raven." I introduced myself as I grabbed my pack. "May I meet him?"

Relief spread over the older man's face. Apparently there was something about me which seemed to make him think that his son was in safe, secure hands. Little did he know that I had yet to complete any larger tasks. The most extensive quest I had completed was to retrieve a stolen piece of jewellery from a nest of bandits. It had been exciting, but over far too quickly.

With a short nod, the innkeeper started to lead me through the busy inn. His assistant took over behind the counter without a need to be ordered. The elder led me into a larger living area, where I assume he and his family spent their time when they weren't tending to the inn. Looking around the room for my protégé, my eyes landed on a young man with hair the colour of flames and eyes blue as the sky. He was around my own age, possibly a few years older.

"Erik, this is the woman who is going to accompany you." The innkeeper, placing a hand between my shoulder blades.

Erik's eyes scanned over my body. I felt as a livestock being up for sale, being examined by the farmer intending on buying her. Crossing my arms over my chest to shield his view, I bit my jaws hard together. His eyes drifted form my body up to my head. They scanned over my mostly shaved hair, except for an inch wide band of thick hair which went from my forehead down to my neck. His eyes then travelled to my eyes, and the warpaint covering my face.

"My name is Raven." I said, breaking the quietness in the room.

"I'm Erik." He reached out a large hand, which was calloused from the work around the inn, not from holding a sword. "Erik the Slayer."

It was difficult for me to keep my face straight as he told me about his name. It was obvious that he had made it up for himself, in order to feel more powerful and under the illusion that he was bringing terror into his opponents. But, I doubted this milk drinker had even slain a skeever. I returned his handshake, giving him a lopsided smile.

"It's very pleasant to meet you Erik. I hope we have great adventures together." We withdrew our hands.

"I am planning on setting off tomorrow. Are you ready for that?" The arrogant tone in his voice made my blood rise a bit.

"Of course I am." My tone turned sour.

"That's enough introductions." The father said, sensing the tensioning in the room. Ushering me out of the room, he closed the door behind us.

"I see why you need a sell sword to keep him safe." I said and turned around to him, blocking his way back into the inn. He looked at me with a slightly confused face as I blocked his path.

"Yes. He can become arrogant." After giving an answer, he once more attempted to get past me. Instead of stepping out of his way, I stretched out my palm. Finally, he realised what my intention was.

Muttering something about robbing him raw, he pulled out the bag of Septims and placed it in my hand. It felt nice and heavy as I weighed it in my palm. Brynjolf had taught me how to estimate the amount of Septims in a bag my simply looking at it, or feeling it. My estimate was that there was indeed five thousand Septims in it.

"Please to do business with you." I grinned as I started to make my way towards the room I had rented for the night. As I passed the inn's desk, I grabbed another small bag of Septims which was resting among the mead. Smiling to myself, I closed the door to my room and got undressed for the night.


End file.
